


Oh, Your Love is Sunlight

by SesameSeed



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Faeries - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Jeonghan is a sun faerie, Jihoon is a moon faerie, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25503817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SesameSeed/pseuds/SesameSeed
Summary: “But whose heart would not take flightBetray the moon as acolyteOn first and fierce affirming sightOf sunlight, sunlight, sunlight.“
Relationships: Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 23





	1. Who Would Trade That Hum of Night?

**Author's Note:**

> We’re back with another fantasy-ish fic! These types of fics are really my favourite to write, and when I got this idea I couldn’t resist writing it! It has all of the elements I love in a story (lots of cuteness with lots of pain, and of course magic and faeries!) and so I really hope you enjoy reading it too!
> 
> For the first time in quite a while, I’m doing a chaptered fic. I didn’t intend to at first, but I thought it would make it a bit easier formatting and pacing-wise. I am hoping that updates will be relatively consistent, but please forgive me if they’re not because it really just depends on how much work I have within one week because summer semesters tend to be HECTIC.
> 
> The song that inspired this whole story was Sunlight by Hozier, and I’d highly recommend listening to it before or during reading this fic!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Only in the forest did Jihoon feel like he could breathe in every possible way: in body, in mind, and in soul. He felt a connection with the magickal energy flowing through it, the energy born from an ancient soul that stretched into everything living in it. In the forest, he didn’t have to think about the politics of his kingdom, he didn’t have to bite his tongue for fear of punishment. Because when he was in the forest, his only kingdom was that of wood, leaf, and magick.

He had long finished what he had been sent down to the mortal realm to do. The energy lines within the forest were strong and healthy as ever, and he’d checked and fortified them three times just to be sure. But he didn’t want to go back to the moon kingdom just yet. The night air was crisp and clear, filling his body with a serenity he didn’t know he missed.

He had no urgent reason to go back, so he stayed, his humming echoing through the forest as he walked slowly and comfortably through the giant pine trees.

  
  


Jihoon wasn’t someone who relaxed easily. His mind had trouble slowing down, and his body held on to tension far too tightly. But in the forest, those difficulties melted away.

His body felt light, his mind clear, and his heart calm. In such moments of perfect stillness, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing the melodies he’d kept to himself, often for weeks on end.

  
  


But all of a sudden, the muscles on the back of Jihoon’s neck tensed up, bringing his feet to an abrupt stop. All the other times he’d spent in the forest, he’d been blissfully alone—he wouldn’t have been so calm otherwise—but the sudden feeling of eyes on the back of his head was so unmistakable it was impossible to ignore.

Turning around, he expected to see one of the knights of the moon kingdom, here to berate him for wasting time in the mortal realm instead of immediately reporting back upon completing his duties..

  
  


But the gaze he met instead filled him with a deeper sense of panic.

It was the unmistakable gaze of a sun faerie.

  
  


Moon faeries and sun faeries didn’t get along, to say the least. Their respective kingdoms were in constant competition, constantly trying to outdo each other when it came to preserving the mortal realm. Because of both kingdoms’ arrogance, what started as harmless rivalry became a deeply seeded hatred. And while Jihoon found the whole thing ridiculous, he couldn’t help but feel on edge.

The sun kingdom occasionally sent out spies, assassins even, to prey on moon faeries such as himself who were simply doing their jobs. The moon kingdom did the same during the daytime—it was yet another product of their petty feud.

  
  


Jihoon was unarmed and unprotected—an all-too-easy prey.

But—defying all expectations—the sun faerie’s eyes widened, and he bowed deeply, offering Jihoon a sheepish smile once he rose. The action made Jihoon frown: it was just so…  _ strange _ .

  
  


“Forgive me for following you,” spoke the sun faerie, a slight tremor to his voice that Jihoon couldn’t help but pick up on. “I promise, I mean you no harm.”

Jihoon’s eyes were drawing to the way the sun faerie was wringing his hands, and his frown deepened. The shake of his voice, the nervousness in his hands, it all contrasted so starkly with the calm and confident way he carried himself.

“It’s alright,” replied Jihoon cautiously. Despite how genuine the sun faerie seemed to be, he didn’t want to take any chances. “Are you… alright?”

The sun faerie’s smile faltered a little at Jihoon’s question, and he tilted his head slightly to the right. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, the tremor lighter, but still present. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem nervous, that’s all,” replied Jihoon with a shrug of the shoulders. And as though to prove him right, the sun faerie tittered, the laugh more of an anxious exhale than an expression of amusement.”

“Well…” he started, shyly bringing a hand up to the back of his head. “If I’m honest, I’m not exactly  _ opposed _ to walking through the woods, but uh… I’d prefer to do that during the day.”

Jihoon’s eyebrows rose in confusion. Perhaps it was because he was so accustomed to it, but it was just so odd to see someone so genuinely afraid of the forest, no matter how dark it was.

“Nothing will hurt you…” he murmured, his brows knitting together once more.

“I know,” replied the sun faerie with a soft laugh, “It just doesn’t  _ feel _ that way.”

Though it might not have been the proper reaction, Jihoon shook his head slightly in a failed attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Sun faeries,” he teased, clicking his tongue. “You’re too used to seeing things clearly. Just because things are a little bit hidden doesn’t mean there’s anything to fear.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” sighed the sun faerie. “You’re a moon faerie, you’re used to this.”

  
  


A foolish thought crossed Jihoon’s mind, but the more he considered it, the less foolish it seemed.

_ Why not show a sun faerie the magick running through the forest during the nighttime? _

It was reckless, especially since he didn’t quite know the sun faerie’s intentions yet, but it didn’t seem like the worst decision he could make. His other option was to go back to the moon kingdom right then and there and report this little meeting, but the thought of that made Jihoon’s stomach twist and turn.

If this sun faerie  _ was _ a spy or assassin, whether Jihoon decided to stay or run would make little difference. He was dead the moment they met. But if he  _ wasn’t _ , reporting him to the moon kingdom was a swift death sentence, and Jihoon wasn’t sure he could live with that blood on his hands.

  
  


And so, though it was foolish, Jihoon took a deep breath and looked back up at the sun faerie.

“Come on,” he said gently as he extended his hand out for a handshake. “I’ll show you there’s nothing to be scared of.”

  
  


For a split second, as the sun faerie regarded him with wide, disbelieving eyes, doubt and uncertainty weaved themselves between Jihoon’s thoughts. All at once, he felt foolish again. Even if this sun faerie wouldn’t hurt him, who was to say that the shared the same sentiments as him when it came to their kingdoms’ illogical conflict?

But just as quickly as those thoughts crept into his mind, they were chased away as the sun faerie walked towards him, and shook his hand.

“My name’s Jeonghan,” he said softly, his smile less strained and the tremor in his voice almost unnoticeable.

“And I’m Jihoon. Now follow me.”

  
  
  


They didn’t have to walk for long until the trees broke their formation, and they entered a small, almost glowing glade. Jihoon smiled as he heard the footsteps behind him stop abruptly, and the faintest of gasps break the silence of the night.

“It’s so beautiful…” whispered Jeonghan, and he was right.

  
  


The moonlight filtered in through the treetops, dropping down to the grassy ground like threads of silver. White mushrooms grew in circles all over the glade, gleaming like pearls as they caught the moonlight. On the far edge of the glade, there was a small, shimmering pond lined on one side with large silver stones, and topped with water lillies and bright lily pads of all different sizes.

Even without the strong magickal energy, it was one of the most beautiful places on could ever imagine.

  
  


Jihoon turned around to face Jeonghan, who was staring at everything around him with his mouth agape. Though he always thought he would feel uneasy showing someone this little safe space of his, all he felt was a calm happiness as he observed just how wonderstruck Jeonghan seemed to be.

“I can feel the magickal energy,” started Jeonghan. “It’s so pure. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“The forest’s energy lines all connect in this glade,” explained Jihoon. “That’s why it’s so strong.”

“It’s incredible,” the sun faerie murmured, moving his gaze to stare up at the night sky through the treetops.

  
  


Jihoon walked over to the pond and took a seat on one of the larger stones. Before long, Jeonghan joined him. For a few moments, the two sat in comfortable silence, the sun faerie gazing at the silvery threads of moonlight as the moon faerie closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of magickal energy permeating into his skin.

“Should you be here, right now?” Asked Jihoon, blinking his eyes open. “Did you sneak out?”

Jeonghan chuckled sheepishly, turning to face Jihoon with a lazy content smile on his face.

  
  


Sitting so close together, Jihoon realized something.

Jeonghan looked like the warmth of the setting sun personified.

  
  


“Well, yes,” replied Jeonghan. “We have a strict curfew in the sun kingdom, but my curiosity got the better of me.”

“Curiosity?”

“I’ve wanted to know what this forest is like at night for the longest time. It’s also a strong energy centre for sun magick, did you know that?”

“I didn’t,” replied Jihoon with a soft smile before dropping his voice to a murmur. “To be honest, I’m not supposed to be here right now either.”

“How come?”

“I finished my duties hours ago,” started Jihoon, the words just spilling out without him really thinking about them. “I should have gone back to the kingdom immediately, but I didn’t. I like walking through the forest.”

Jeonghan laughed, his eyes crinkling up into crescent moons as he slightly leaned his body against Jihoon’s, if only for a split second.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to be careful then,” he chuckled.

  
  


Jihoon’s smile widened, and he broke Jeonghan’s gaze to stare back up at the starry, twinkling night sky. He’d assumed that Jeonghan too would return to studying the glade and the magick running through it, and yet, the feeling of being watched persisted. But when he brought his gaze back down, he was so surprised he barely managed to catch a yelp before it burst out of his throat.

The look Jeonghan was giving him was one that Jihoon would commit to memory. A mixture of captivating, wonder, and fascination that turned his already beautiful features into a spectacle that not even the best of artists could adequately capture.

  
  


It was a look that disappeared the moment they met eyes, but one that Jihoon would never,  _ could never _ forget.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” said Jeonghan softly, still not breaking eye contact. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just never seen eyes like yours before.”

“A forest full of magickal energy,” started Jihoon, cocking an eyebrow, “And all you can focus on is my eyes?”

“Well, you can’t exactly blame me…” retorted Jeonghan, and Jihoon swore he could hear a pout in the sun faerie’s voice. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours. They look just like the night sky—so dark, yet still shining. Like they’ve captured every single star they saw.”

All and any possible responses left Jihoon’s head at Jeonghan’s words. He could only sit there, hoping the glade was just dark enough to hide his face as he felt it burn a bright red.

“Do all moon faeries have eyes like yours?” Asked Jeonghan, cocking his head to one side.

“I don’t know,” mumbled Jihoon, shrugging his shoulders in a manner he  _ hoped _ seemed nonchalant. “I suppose so…”

  
  


To Jihoon’s great relief, Jeonghan dropped the topic with nothing more than a breathy laugh. Tilting his head up to the sky, the sun faerie regarded the twinkling expanse with a soft gaze. Jihoon had been right: the more time he spent in the glade, the less fearful he felt of the dark shadows surrounding him. The thought of what may or may not be hiding in the darkness became little more than a quiet buzzing in the back of his mind.

It was still all so different to the magick he was used to, but it was no less beautiful and comforting.

Where sunlight was like a warm blanket, designed to chase away the iciest of evils, moonlight seemed to be like a gentle breeze, one that could put out the angriest of fires.

  
  


“Would you let me show you around this forest during the day?” Whispered Jeonghan, glancing down at Jihoon. “The sunlight just makes it seem so… different.”

Jihoon sucked in a quick breath, and it took some time until he remembered to let it out. He couldn’t lie to himself, he  _ was _ curious. Many a time, he’d hid near the gateway of the moon kingdom, forcing his body to stay awake just to watch the sky change from a midnight blue to a soft peach, and see how the rays of sunlight slowly spread in between every single tree until it completely covered the mortal realm.

Over time, that curiosity led to yearning. He wanted nothing more than to experience what the forest felt like with sun magick coursing through its energy lines.

  
  


And yet.

  
  


“I can’t,” replied Jihoon, his voice quiet.

“They won’t find out, not if we’re careful,” urged Jeonghan, but Jihoon was shaking his head before he even finished the sentence.

“That’s not what I mean… Moon faeries are sensitive to sunlight.”

“I see…” murmured Jeonghan. “In that case, I’ll make you something that will protect you. There has to be some sort of enchantment that can make you less sensitive to it, even if only temporarily.”

“I don’t know Jeonghan…”

Jeonghan sighed, flashing Jihoon a bright, easy smile before looking back up at the sky.

“In any case, I have some things to do down here two days from today, at sunrise. I’ll be here if you want to join me.”

  
  


_ ‘An enchantment…’ _ pondered Jihoon, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth and gnawing on it as he considered Jeonghan’s for a second time. He wasn’t scared of getting caught—years of sneaking down to the mortal realm even when he wasn’t supposed to had served him well—but still, something tugged on his shoulder, stopping him from accepting the sun faerie’s offer.

It was fear—as much as Jihoon hated to admit it—sitting thick and ice cold in the pits of his stomach and making his head spin. Strangely enough, he wasn’t scared of Jeonghan; the sun faerie just seemed too genuine to be lying.

  
  


But if he wasn’t scared of getting caught, and he wasn’t scared of Jeonghan, what else could he possibly have to fear?

  
  


“I’ll join you,” whispered Jihoon after a heavy gulp. Once he uttered those words, a part of him felt lighter. After all, it was one less thing to contemplate.

“Really?” Exclaimed Jeonghan. Truth me told, after seeing how cautious Jihoon seemed to be, he doubted the moon faerie would agree.

“I’ll meet you here in the glade.”

“If you’re set on coming, let me meet you closer to the moon kingdom’s gateway.”

“No,” insisted Jihoon, shaking his head. “It’s too risky, Jeonghan. You’d get caught.”

“But the sun will be coming up. Won’t you get hurt?” Asked Jeonghan furrowing his brows in concern.

Jihoon couldn’t stop his lips from curling up into a small smile. It had been a very long time—too long a time—since someone had worried over him.

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, if you insist. Just be careful,” sighed Jeonghan, nudging Jihoon’s shoulder. “And it’s not that I’m not enjoying it here—believe me, I am—but I think you should get back before dawn breaks, don’t you?”

It had been a while since Jihoon had been so relaxed that he completely lost track of time like that, and though it left him a bit nervous, a part of him was overjoyed.

“Right,” replied Jihoon awkwardly, reluctantly standing up and taking a few steps backwards. “I’ll get going then.”

“Let me walk you to the gateway,” offered Jeonghan, falling into step with the moon faerie.

“Aren’t you taking a few risks too many, Jeonghan?” Asked Jihoon, cocking an eyebrow.

“Now don’t be mean, Jihoon. I’ve just found some comfort in the darkness, and you really want to deprive me from walking through it a little longer?” Whined Jeonghan, a teasing smile on his face which quickly softened along with his tone. “I’ll keep a safe distance, alright? You don’t have to worry about me.”

  
  


Jihoon chuckled, his shoulders shaking in amusement as the two continued walking amongst the dense collection of tree trunks. With the approach of dawn, the trees were veiled in a light, barely there mist. The ones at the edge of the forest were slightly more than dark silhouettes against a blanket of white.

Though it was still dark, Jihoon could feel how the forest was coming alive with a different kind of magick. The calm stillness of moon magick was slowly ebbing away, replaced instead by a soft, yet energetic thrum that seemed to fill even the strongest root with gentle movement.

  
  


It was strange—almost unnerving—to feel the gradual change from familiar to unfamiliar. Yet Jihoon would be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel this new magick at its most potent.

  
  


“What was that song you were singing?” Asked Jeonghan, his quiet voice gently bringing Jihoon out of his own thoughts.

“Hm?”

“The song you were singing when we met. It was pretty.”

It took every ounce of self control in Jihoon’s body to keep himself from freezing right then and there. But nothing could stop the heat that bloomed across his cheeks, painting his face a deep pink that he could only  _ hope _ was hidden by what was left of the night.

“Oh…” started Jihoon. “It’s nothing really…”

“Did you write it?” Asked Jeonghan, and Jihoon was surprised at how genuine the curiosity behind the question seemed to be.

“Yes…”

“Could you sing it again? For me?”

“It’s really nothing, Jeonghan…” said Jihoon, growing more and more flustered with every passing moment. “It doesn’t even have lyrics yet.”

“Well,” started Jeonghan, a mischievous lilt to his voice. “Let’s say that one day, I  _ need _ to hear you singing that song. Would you sing it to me then?”

Despite his embarrassment, Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of Jeonghan’s request.

“Jeonghan, when would you ever  _ need _ to hear me sing something?”

“You never know,” shrugged Jeonghan. “Maybe it’s the only way to break a spell.”

“Alright, alright,” yielded Jihoon, not bothering to hide the smile on his face. “If you ever need me to sing it to you, I will… assuming I’ve finished it by then.”

“I’ll look forward to it, Nymphaea,” whispered Jeonghan.

  
  


This time, Jihoon really did stop dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his chest.

“Nymphaea?” He croaked out, somehow managing to maintain eye contact with the sun faerie, who turned to face him with a raised brow.

“As in water lillies,” explained Jeonghan. “They’re associated with the moon and they were all over the pond in the glade. They’re how I’ll remember you.”

“O-Oh,” mumbled Jihoon, willing his feet to move again. And though he refused to look back up, he could feel the warm smile Jeonghan was sending his way.

  
  
  


Before long, the forest started to thin, and the gateway to the moon kingdom was in sight. It looked unassuming enough—a great oak tree that bore no leaves, split down the middle and joined only at the base of the trunk—but when observed for long enough, the space between the trunks gave a pearlescent shimmer.

The lack of guards gave a false sense of security, because on the other side of the gateway were half a dozen of them, all alert and ready to defend their kingdom no matter the costs.

  
  


Jihoon hated calling them guards. He believed ‘puppets’ was a far better term for them.

  
  


“You should stop here,” started Jihoon, finally able to look up from the forest floor. “You might be seen if you get any closer.”

Jeonghan nodded, a warm smile on his lips as he looked down at Jihoon.

“I’ll see you in two days, Jihoon,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to squeeze the moon faerie’s shoulder.

“At sunrise,” nodded Jihoon, giving the sun faerie a small smile.

With a final nod, Jeonghan turned and walked back into the forest’s shadows.

“Good luck with the song, Nymphaea,” he called, making Jihoon turn to smile widely at his retreating back.

  
  


Truth be told, he didn’t need luck, not anymore. Because as he walked through the gateway, lyrics were already swimming through his mind, mingling effortlessly with the melody he’d created until the song started taking shape.

  
  
  


_ ‘But it is sunlight.’ _


	2. I Had Been Lost to You, Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this chapter which is basically just Jeonghan flirting and Jihoon being very oblivious.
> 
> Also, if you couldn’t tell, I really love sunrises ;;

Sometimes, it concerned Jihoon. Despite the constant presence of guards near the gateway, it was surprisingly easy to sneak in and out of the moon kingdom. Well, at least for a moon faerie who’d spent the better part of four years secretly visiting the mortal realm.

Sometimes, it concerned Jihoon. But more often than not, he was _incredibly_ grateful for it. Because if it wasn’t so easy, he wouldn’t have been sitting in a sunspot at that very moment, feeling the warmth of the awakening sun filtering in through the treetops. With a dark blue cloak covering him from head to toe, he couldn’t feel it directly on his skin, but still, it felt nice. It felt _new_.

  
  


Perhaps it was because it was still only sunrise, but Jihoon had expected sun energy to feel more intense. He’d expected it to feel harsh, potent, almost severe in its heat. But it wasn’t. It was livelier than moon energy, but still held a sort of softness. It was comforting in a way that energized him yet calmed him all at once.

As he sat under the sun, Jihoon came to understand why mortals awoke during the day and slept during the night. A part of him wished that he could too, just so that the first thing he’d feel every day would be sun energy gently touching his face.

  
  
  


“Aren’t you getting hot wearing that?”

  
  


Jeonghan’s voice came out of nowhere, but it didn’t scare Jihoon. It was a gentle tug, pulling Jihoon’s attention out of his own mind and back into the world around him. And almost immediately, he realized something.

He had been in no way prepared to see Jeonghan under the sun, the light making his eyes look like warm amber and his blonde hair shine as though it were a halo.

  
  


He knew Jeonghan was beautiful—only a fool would deny that—but sun energy seemed to amplify that beauty, making it something almost intimidating.

  
  


Jihoon hadn’t registered the movement, but suddenly, Jeonghan was standing in front of him and pulling a necklace out of his pocket. It was simple enough—a black piece of string with a crystal hanging from it—but before he even touched it, Jihoon could feel the magick radiating off of it.

“It took some research,” started Jeonghan, smiling down at Jihoon, “But I’ve found an enchantment that will keep the sunlight from hurting you. The bumblebee jasper would’ve been enough, but I put some more spells on it, just to be safe.”

Jihoon looked up at Jeonghan, wide-eyed. “You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered.

“Don’t be silly,” said Jeonghan in a sing-song voice, undoing the clasp of the necklace. “Would you let me put this on you? I don’t want you to have to take your hood off.”

Words failed Jihoon, so he just gulped and nodded, lowering his gaze to the ground as Jeonghan kneeled down and leaned in closer.

  
  


Despite Jeonghan trying his best not to make direct contact with Jihoon’s skin, his hand brushed against the side of his neck. And though Jihoon had preemptively flinched,

he felt no pain.

He couldn’t remember where the rumour had come from, but he’d heard all to often that a sun faerie’s touch would burn right through a moon faerie’s skin, leaving a gaping wound that no magick could heal.

It was a baseless rumour, one that Jihoon _knew_ had no factual foundation, and yet, he had flinched.

Even though Jeonghan didn’t seem to notice, still wearing his same soft smile as he pulled away from Jihoon, the moon faerie couldn’t help but feel ridiculous.

  
  


Slowly but surely, a warmth started to spread over Jihoon’s body, radiating out from the crystal that hung at his chest. It wasn’t exactly like the warmth of the sun, but close to it, holding that same energizing calm.

It was a gentle warmth, but somehow, Jihoon knew it was as strong as armour.

And sure enough, when Jihoon brought a tentative hand out from where it was hidden in his sleeves,

he felt no pain.

  
  


“How does it feel?” Asked Jeonghan, still kneeling down in front of Jihoon and looking up at him with those glowing, amber eyes.

“Warm,” replied Jihoon. “But not burning. It’s just… nice and warm.”

“Good,” nodded Jeonghan, his smile growing wider. To Jihoon’s surprise, the sun faerie brought his hands up to the button that held his cloak shut. “Now let’s get that cloak off you. I still don’t understand how you can stand the heat in that thing.”

Despite holding onto the button, Jeonghan didn’t do anything. He sat still, looking up at Jihoon expectantly. It took a few seconds, but Jihoon realized that Jeonghan’s pause was a silent, patient request—a request for permission to undo the button resting under his fingers. Eyes widening and cheeks flushing with embarrassment, Jihoon nodded.

He couldn’t explain why, but that pause made his heart beat just a little bit faster in his chest.

Jeonghan was right, though. The second Jeonghan lifted the cloak from his shoulders, it was a little easier to breathe, and the air didn’t feel as sticky against his skin anymore.

  
  


But best of all, he could feel the full, unbridled power of sun energy seeping into his skin.

The liveliness,

the calm,

the energy,

the softness,

it was a little overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

  
  


“I have an idea,” started Jeonghan, folding Jihoon’s cloak until it was a small square. “I know that you love this glade—and for good reason, it’s _gorgeous_ here—but if you’d let me, I want to show you _my_ favourite secret place. The view of the sunrise there is just… it’s unparalleled.”

Excitement filled every vein in Jihoon’s body, making his eyes widen and lips curl up in a small smile. Having walked through it countless times, Jihoon had committed to memory every square inch of the forest. And yet, walking through it during the day made the places that were once familiar suddenly so new and unexplored.

  
  


After all, the glade—though beautiful during the day—was most breathtaking under the moonlight. Perhaps this place Jeonghan wanted to take him to was the opposite. Perhaps its true beauty was only revealed under the sunlight.

  
  


“Okay,” nodded Jihoon, standing up and barely managing to keep his anticipation contained. “Let’s go.”

  
  


Jihoon had expected that the walk would be silent, just as it had been two nights ago. But, to his surprise, they had barely started walking before Jeonghan nudged his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

“How’s the song coming along?” Asked Jeonghan. His pace was slow and comfortable, making it difficult for Jihoon to keep in step with him in his excited state.

“I think it’s just about finished,” started Jihoon. For all the work he’d put into the song, he’d all but forgotten it until Jeonghan brought it up. “I’ve been working on it a lot the past couple of nights.”

“You said you’d sing it to me if I needed you to, so… could you?”

Though he hadn’t intended to, the request made Jihoon chuckle. But, having caught onto the nervousness that made its way to Jeonghan’s eyes, Jihoon placed a reassuring hand on the sun faerie’s arm.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you,” he started. “But do you really _need_ me to sing it?”

“Well, no. But I’d like you to. Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s not a need Jeonghan.”

“Please, Jihoon?” Whined Jeonghan. “I’ve been wanting to hear you sing ever since I heard you humming the other night. And the sunrise is so beautiful, your voice could only make it even prettier. Please?”

  
  


Jihoon sighed. Were he talking to anyone else, no amount of begging would have convinced him to share his melodies or his lyrics with anyone else. His songs were deeply, _deeply_ personal to him, and sharing them with someone else was just far too difficult.

But to Jihoon, Jeonghan wasn’t just anyone else. They’d only met a couple of nights ago, but Jihoon already trusted the sun faerie more than he had anyone else.

Perhaps it was foolish to trust someone that much, but at the same time, it was freeing.

  
  


“Alright,” mumbled Jihoon. “It’s not very long though.”

“I’m sure it’s incredible, Nymphaea.”

Ignoring the heat blooming across his cheeks, Jihoon started singing, his voice quiet but sure.

  
  
  


_“I would shun the light,_

_share in evenings cool and quiet,_

_who would trade that hum of night_

_for sunlight, sunlight, sunlight._

_But whose heart would not take flight,_

_betray the moon as acolyte,_

_on first and fierce affirming sight_

_of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight._

_I had been lost to you, sunlight._

_Flew like a moth to you, sunlight._

_Oh, sunlight._

_Oh, your love is sunlight._

_Oh, your love is sunlight._

_But it is sunlight.”_

  
  
  


By the time Jihoon’s voice faded away, the sound of dawn’s calm stillness took over, filling the silence between the two faeries. With every soundless step taken, more and more doubts managed to weave themselves between Jihoon’s thoughts.

When it came from Jeonghan—someone who seemed so high-spirited, so ready to share his thoughts—silence hurt more than the harshest of criticisms.

  
  


“Jeonghan…” started Jihoon, his voice small. “Can you please say something?”

The sun faerie still didn’t say anything, but Jihoon could feel his eyes settling down on him. He wanted nothing more than to look up and meet Jeonghan’s gaze, but he didn’t dare. His eyes stayed glued down to his feet, watching them move with stubborn focus.

“Oh, Nymphaea,” sighed Jeonghan, draping his arm loosely around Jihoon’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous. I just got lost in the song, that’s all.”

“Did you like it?” Asked Jihoon, sneaking a glance up at Jeonghan, but immediately looking back down the second he made eye contact with the sun faerie.

“It’s beautiful, Jihoon. Absolutely _beautiful_. I can’t tell you how much I love it. You’re incredible.”

  
  


Even though his face burned an even brighter shade of pink and his stomach performed leaps and turns, Jihoon tried to hide the effect Jeonghan’s words of praise had on him. But his breath must have hitched just a little too loudly, or his shoulders must have stiffened for a fraction of a second too long, because Jeonghan pulled Jihoon closer into his side, chuckling fondly.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed. “You deserve to know how talented you are.”

“Thank you…” Jihoon managed to croak out, desperately trying to get his heart to slow down before it burst out of his chest.

  
  


The rest of the walk was spent in silence, but not one as thick and uncomfortable as the one that surrounded them once Jihoon had finished singing. In an attempt to calm his flustered, borderline overwhelmed state, Jihoon tried to focus on what the sun energy was doing to the forest life around him.

Everything was thrumming with energy, creating movement in even the sturdiest of trees. There was _so much_ sound all around him: birds singing softly into the crisp morning air, the faraway sound of a deer munching on the dew covered grass, the leaves stirring in the wind…

  
  


The forest was awake, it was overflowing with so much life that seemed to lie dormant under the moonlight.

A big part of him still preferred the stillness of the moonlight—the quiet magick that permeated the air—but the vibrancy of sunlight captivated him.

  
  
  


Slowly, the trees started to thin, and the most beautiful sight came into view; one that made Jihoon stop dead in his tracks. He had always known of the small stretch of beach on the east side of the forest, but he’d never seen the way it glimmered and shone when touched by sunlight. The sand was a gentle, soft gold, glittering like the most brilliant of diamonds. Driftwood and seaweed were scattered across the beach, looking like deep brown and vibrant green treasures hidden beneath a blanket of gold. The water was gentler than it was at night. It’s waves didn’t roar as they crashed down to the shore. Instead, it seemed as though the sea was breathing, its surface rising and falling easily and rhythmically.

Most beautiful of all, however, was the sunrise. 

The sunrise bloomed like a flower that had missed the sky and wanted nothing more than to warm the deep, cold blues of the night to a radiant gold and warm peach. Its brilliant rays stretched out into the blue sky, its kisses making the scarce spatter of clouds blush with soft pinks and pastel oranges.

Overwhelmed by the beauty, Jihoon almost forgot how to breathe. If he hadn’t already thought sun energy was beautiful, there was no doubt that he believed it now.

With all his heart.

  
  


“I figured it was my turn to take your breath away.”

Jihoon barely had time to process what Jeonghan had leaned down to whisper in his ear before the sun faerie took him by the hand and pulled him to the very edge of the shore. It was quite a strategic place to sit: close enough to the sea to feel the breeze it provided and hear the sound of the waves as they washed onto the sand, but far away enough not to get wet.

  
  


“It was a good idea,” started Jihoon, staring at the sunrise. “Coming here. A risky idea, but a good one.”

“I’m glad you think so,” replied Jeonghan, leaning back onto the palms of his hands. “I wish it was easier for you.”

“Me too,” sighed Jihoon.

“Don’t you think it’s ridiculous? I mean, I’ve been trying to comprehend it for years but I can’t. The feud between our kingdoms is just… It’s senseless.”

Jihoon wanted to respond. For so long he had wanted so desperately to talk about this with someone else, but he hadn’t realized how scary it would be. His thoughts alone were enough to convict him of treason. To speak them aloud would make his sentence even more severe. 

“Hey,” started Jeonghan, having sensed how nervous the moon faerie became. “We don’t have to talk about this. I know it’s dangerous. Anyway, you’ve taken a big enough risk by just being here.”

“No, I want to talk about it; I wanted to for a while, actually. I just didn’t realize how nerve-wrecking it would be,” said Jihoon, a small smile making its way onto his lips. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re right though. I don’t understand it either. I don’t understand who it’s benefiting. I’m surprised that their feud hasn’t affected our ability to preserve the mortal realm.

“I don’t think it’s benefiting anyone. And the sad thing is, I don’t think they’ll change unless they get an ugly wake up call. One that will probably hurt many innocent people in the process.”

“Do you think that one day they’ll be able to learn how stupid this feud is? Not through some horrible tragedy or anything, but by someone showing them that both kingdoms are equally necessary. I mean, it all started from a rivalry that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.”

“I wish that could happen, Jihoon,” replied Jeonghan, shaking his head, “But I know it won’t work. I once tried to convince our king of that. It didn’t go so well…”

“To be honest, our king isn’t much more reasonable,” sighed Jihoon. “I think… I think they’re both too consumed with pride and arrogance to ever admit that they need each other for life here to continue. One cannot exist without the other.”

“Well said, Nymphaea. It gets so tiring getting caught up in all this ridiculousness. Doesn’t it make you want to get away from it all?”

“Sometimes… It’s exhausting. Just the fact that I’m here right now, to them, is a terrible crime. It doesn’t make any sense…”

“You know,” started Jeonghan, bringing his arms to rest on his knees. “I think that might be the saddest part of all this.”

“What is?” Asked Jihoon, turning to face Jeonghan.

“That sun faeries and moon faeries are forbidden from doing as little as talking to each other. A friendship would be bad enough, but imagine if a sun faerie and moon faerie fell in love. Real, true love. Both kingdoms wouldn’t bat an eyelash at committing murder if it means stopping them from ever being together.”

  
  


There was something in Jeonghan’s eyes as he spoke that caught Jihoon’s attention. A sadness that otherwise seemed so well-hidden under layers of playfulness and wonder. He didn’t want to ask—it seemed like the king of sadness that seemed far too deep, far too personal—but he couldn’t lie, it intrigued him.

_‘Maybe he loved a moon faerie once,’_ thought Jihoon. _‘Maybe he fell in love with a moon faerie and could never be with them.’_

For some reason, the thought of that made Jihoon’s stomach tie itself into knots. 

  
  


“It’s terrifying,” said Jihoon, pulling his knees closer to his chest. “I hate it. I hate having to be so cautious all the time. But if I decided not to, and guards followed me here… I don’t even want to think about what they’d do to the both of us.”

“Awh, Nymphaea,” cooed Jeonghan, already sporting his mischievous, playful attitude. “Don’t worry about that. Even if an army comes, I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. But even though he _knew_ Jeonghan was just making jokes, he couldn’t help the way his heart and stomach reacted to the sun faerie’s words. Somehow, though they clenched painfully and tied themselves into even tighter knots, they also felt light as air.

  
  


It was a strange sensation, one Jihoon had never experienced before.

  
  


No response coming to his lips, Jihoon turned back to the horizon. Dawn had broken, and the sun hung high in the sky, its light illuminating everything it touched, being sure to leave no darkness behind. Jihoon was a little upset that the brilliant colours of sunrise had faded away, but the rich, light blue of morning sky was still a sight to behold. There were more clouds now, light and fluffy ones that looked softer than the most expensive of blankets.

He felt at peace, the very same peace he felt under the moonlight. Truth be told, he’d never expected such a different kind of energy to have that same effect on him.

  
  


But it was nice, so Jihoon tried not to question it.

  
  


“When do you have to go back?” Asked Jeonghan, a little while later.

“Soon, I suppose,” answered Jihoon, but he made no movement to indicate that he intended to get up.

“Aren’t you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s too nice here.”

Jeonghan chuckled beside him, and shuffled closer. So close, in fact, that when Jihoon tilted his head back just a little bit, it came to rest on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“You can sleep here for a little bit,” whispered Jeonghan when Jihoon looked up at him. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours, at noon.”

  
  


It was yet another risky move, but Jihoon took it. After all, the sun on his skin was just _so_ warm. And though he’d never expected to like it, he couldn’t deny how comfortable it was to enjoy such simple closeness with someone he had grown to trust.

With Jeonghan, everything seemed to become comfortable.

  
  
  


_‘Flew to a moth to you, sunlight.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I’ve mentioned, this fic is inspired by Sunlight by Hozier and that’s the song Jihoon sings in this chapter! Once again, I highly recommend listening to it while reading this fic! ^^
> 
> (Also, just a quick heads up: the next chapter is gonna hurt. I am not looking forward to writing it because there will probably be pain so YEAH)


	3. Death Trap Clad Happily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say that writing this chapter physically hurt me so uh.... Yeah there’s a lot of pain....

Though it paled in comparison to the forests, glades, and beaches of the mortal realm, the library of the Moon Kingdom was truly a sight to behold. Tree trunks and vines wove themselves in between the shelves and crept up the walls, filling the room with their woody, earthy scent. On the far side was a small waterfall, and its sound permeated through the silence, creating an atmosphere of calmness and serenity. It was the only place Jihoon knew of where something such as perfect stillness seemed to exist. Everything was so quiet, so tranquil; the calm so pure it was as though nothing could disturb it.

When Jihoon couldn’t visit the mortal realm, he loved spending time amongst the books and scrolls that filled the library’s shelves; watching the hours pass by with a large stack of books by his side.

This was one of those times. It had been almost two weeks since he had last visited the mortal realm, and he was  _ aching _ to go back. He missed the twinkling, silver glade and the shimmering, golden beach so much it almost hurt.

  
  


He missed Jeonghan too, more than he ever allowed himself to believe he would. Being with Jeonghan grounded him, let him release some of the pent up frustration he’d been harbouring for years on end. When he was with Jeonghan, he felt light, he felt  _ safe _ .

And being deprived of his only source of comfort, of security, hurt more than he could ever imagine.

  
  


The library eased the pain a little bit, making the sharp stab little more than a dull ache. If the library didn’t exist, Jihoon was certain he would have lost his mind.

But his peace didn’t last long. Barely an hour had passed before he felt someone’s presence by his side. A young girl. He didn’t know much about her, but Jihoon knew that despite how young she was—she couldn’t have been older than 14— she worked in the library. He’d occasionally catch her organizing stacks of books and scrolls that were twice her height. But despite the sheer enormity of the work assigned to her, she did it all with an air of calm focus. 

He’d never once spoken to her, but Jihoon had always respected her.

  
  


“Lee Jihoon?” The girl asked, whispering so softly Jihoon had to strain to hear her. Her eyes were glued to the floor, and she looked nothing short of  _ terrified _ .

His stomach tying itself into knots, Jihoon braced himself for whatever the girl wanted to tell him. All things considered, it couldn’t be anything good.

“Yes?” He replied as calmly as he could manage, barely able to keep himself from begging the girl to just say what she wanted to tell him.

“I think you should visit the mortal realm.”

Jihoon frowned, an icy chill running through his body at the girl’s words.

“I can’t. The sun’s still up.”

“You don’t understand,” muttered the girl, shaking her head. “I heard… The King, he sent… he sent a wave… He’s in trouble.”

  
  


Those four fragments were enough for Jihoon’s heart to clench so tightly he almost doubled over in pain. He pushed away from the desk he sat at and stood up so quickly the library spun around him for a few moments.

They weren’t careful enough, and Jeonghan was paying for it.

“Listen to me,” he started, kneeling down in front of the girl in an attempt to make eye contact with her. He wanted nothing more than to make it down to the mortal realm as soon as his legs could take him there, but he had to make sure she would be alright. “Act like you heard nothing, alright? Don’t tell anyone else what you heard, and don’t let them know you talked to me. I know you’re scared, but just pretend like nothing’s wrong, and you’ll be safe. You were so brave to tell me, please be brave just a little bit longer.”

Jihoon didn’t have to heart to get up until the girl gave him a small nod, but once she did, he bolted. He moved through the Moon Kingdom purely based on experience and muscle memory, because his mind was endlessly repeating the same three words.

  
  


_ ‘Please be okay…’ _

  
  


The second he crossed into the mortal realm, Jihoon could smell it; the musty, earthy smell of wet wood mixed in with the brininess of seawater. Everything around him was soaked, and broken branches lay scattered around the forest floor, some almost as big as he was.

Whatever wave the king sent through the forest, it had one, clear objective.

  
  


To kill.

  
  


Doing his best to stop himself from panicking, Jihoon started running through the forest. He decided to start with the perimeters of the forest first, then the beach, and the glade last. If Jeonghan was in the glade, chances were that the interconnected energy lines would have kept him safe.

And truth be told, Jihoon was terrified. He was terrified of searching the glade first, and not finding any sign of Jeonghan. Because judging by the extent of the destruction around him, if Jeonghan  _ wasn’t _ in the glade, he was as good as dead.

As he ran, Jihoon’s eyes were wide open, scanning through all the wreckage around him in a desperate attempt to find any sign of life. But with every step he took, he found it harder and harder to keep tears of dread from filling his eyes, and before he even realized it, they started dripping down his face. 

  
  


_ ‘Please be okay, please be okay,  _ please _ …’ _

  
  


Having been holding onto his last thread of hope so tightly, Jihoon expected it to be ripped from his hands so violently the force would slice his palms open. Every muscle in his body was tensed, bracing himself for the pain. But it never came, because when Jihoon entered the glade, it was all he could do not to cry in relief when he saw a dripping wet Jeonghan on all fours, coughing up the water that made its way into his lungs. 

Jihoon wanted nothing more than to grab Jeonghan and check over every inch of the sun faerie’s body for injuries, but he knew better. Jeonghan was probably terrified, and the last thing Jihoon wanted to do was startle him further. So, mustering as much calmness as he could, he walked over to the sun faerie and crouched down by his side, placing a gentle hand on his back.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, his voice wavering with leftover terror. “You’re safe.”

  
  


By the time he finished coughing, Jeonghan looked spent. He could barely hold his head up with exhaustion, and his entire body was shivering violently. And so, Jihoon did the only thing his racing mind could come up with. He moved Jeonghan into a seated position, and wrapped his arms so tightly around his torso that the sun faerie’s back was flush against his chest. Almost immediately, Jeonghan all but melted into Jihoon, closing his eyes and tilting his head back until it rested on the moon faerie’s shoulder. 

“You’re warm,” said Jeonghan, his voice thin and hoarse.

“And you’re freezing,” replied Jihoon, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady. “What happened?”

“There was a wave, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. I heard it before I saw it, but it was too fast. There was no way I could outrun it. But, from what I can see, it didn’t affect the glade as badly.”

“The magick here protected you, especially since it’s still only sunset…” whispered Jihoon, his arms tightening around Jeonghan’s chest. 

Despite trying so hard to keep them from falling, more tears dripped down Jihoon’s face. And once they started, Jihoon simply couldn’t stop them again.

“Nymphaea?” Asked Jeonghan, pushing away from Jihoon’s chest to look back at him. “Why are you crying?”

“I… I was so scared…” Jihoon breathed, barely able to speak for fear he would break down right then and there.

“Hey,” cooed Jeonghan, gently wiping away Jihoon’s tears with the backs of his fingers. “I’m fine, see? Just a little bruised, that’s all. It’s like you said, the magick here kept me safe.”

“I know, I know. I just… A part of me thought I’d find you dead.”

“I’m alright, Jihoon, really. I’m right here. They’re going to have to try a lot harder if they want to take me away from you.”

“You know who the only person I’ve  _ ever _ been truly honest with is?” Started Jihoon, looking Jeonghan straight in the eyes. “You. Only you. I can’t… I can’t lose you Jeonghan.”

  
  


Jeonghan stilled for a moment, his eyes searching over every part of Jihoon’s face. Several moments passed before he moved again, cupping both of Jihoon’s cheeks with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?”

It took a few moments until Jihoon processed the words the came out of Jeonghan’s mouth, but when he did, he nodded, already pulling Jeonghan closer by the front of his shirt.

  
  


The kiss was by no means perfect—Jeonghan’s lips were still freezing cold, and Jihoon’s were salty from the tears that had been running down his face—but Jihoon would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. 

Jeonghan was gentle yet fervent all at the same time, and the way his hands slid down from his cheeks to his waist left Jihoon’s skin prickling with goosebumps.

  
  


Jihoon never wanted it to end.

  
  


“Some part of me had been hoping you would take my hints,” chuckled Jeonghan, so close he was almost murmuring the words against Jihoon’s lips. “I had no idea just how oblivious you were.”

Jihoon just sputtered at Jeonghan, his face burning brightly as he opened and closed his mouth, as though trying to will the words to his mouth.

“Cute,” giggled Jeonghan, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Jihoon’s head to pull the moon faerie in for another quick, but fond kiss.

  
  


When they broke apart for the second time, Jihoon rested his forehead on Jeonghan’s shoulder, and fell silent. If only for a few moments, he wanted nothing more than to feel Jeonghan, to give his frazzled nerves an opportunity to believe that the sun faerie was right there, alive and well.

So he closed his eyes, and felt. 

It was comforting in ways no promises or reassurances could be. He could feel Jeonghan’s heart beating against his palms, strong and sure. And as the sun faerie ran his fingers up and down his back so lightly it made him shiver, Jihoon finally managed to breathe the last of the terror out of his body.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” whispered Jihoon as Jeonghan started nuzzling his nose against his hair.

“I’m safe, my love,” replied Jeonghan, pressing soft kisses to the top of Jihoon’s head. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

“Always.”

  
  


Though they didn’t speak much else until the sun had long set below the horizon, the two faeries held onto each other, listening to the forest around them slowly fall into a peaceful slumber. Reason told them to get out of the mortal realm as fast as they could, but they just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving each other so soon.

And so, they sat there until a deep silence permeated the world around them, until the only thing they could hear was each others’ soft breaths.

  
  


“What are we going to do?” Asked Jihoon, reluctantly pulling away from the crook of Jeonghan’s neck to look the sun faerie in the eyes. 

Jeonghan sighed, looking down at the grass beneath him. Jihoon hated the way his face fell, the brightness in it replaced by apprehension, but they  _ had _ to talk about this.

  
  


He just wasn’t ready to face the possibility of almost losing Jeonghan a second time.

  
  


“I think…” started Jeonghan, exhaling heavily. “I think we have to stop meeting during the daytime, at least for a little while.”

Jihoon knew Jeonghan was right, but he couldn’t help the flash of pain that spread throughout his chest.

“Okay,” nodded Jihoon, unable to keep the dejection from his face.

“Hey,” said Jeonghan, his voice soft. “We’ll still see each other. When’s the next time you have to come down to the mortal realm?”

“Jeonghan… I can’t keep making you sneak out.”

“I’ll be careful, love. I promise. I don’t want you to take the risk, especially since your kingdom seems to have caught on, but I want to keep seeing you.”

Jihoon paused for a moment, biting his lip hard as he considered the enormity of the situation they found themselves in. 

“A week from tomorrow,” he finally said. “I’ll be back down here a week from tomorrow. But  _ please _ Jeonghan—”

“If I notice anything strange, I won’t come,” interrupted Jeonghan. “I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it…”

  
  


With a gentle, fond smile, Jeonghan tilted Jihoon’s chin, and kissed him again. It was a deeper, more ardent kiss, but gentler and softer than ever before. The sensation made Jihoon’s heart swell in his chest, enveloping him in a warmth that was so comforting it almost made him forget every single one of his fears.

  
  


“I know it’s scary, my love. I’m scared too. But all we can do is take things as they come, one at a time,” crooned Jeonghan, stroking his thumb over Jihoon’s cheek and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“One at a time,” echoed Jihoon, a small smile on his face.

“That’s it. Now come one, love. I think we should both get back before we start pushing it.”

With a heavy sigh, Jihoon nodded, pushing himself off the ground. Though he knew Jeonghan was right, he  _ longed _ to be able to spend as much time as he wanted with him. 

Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to feed that hope, but he  _ longed _ for a day he could wake up and immediately feel Jeonghan’s presence beside him. 

“I don’t suppose it would be a good idea for me to walk you to the gateway again, would it?” Asked Jeonghan, the teasing smile on his face clearly expressing that he knew it wasn’t an option.

“Definitely not,” chuckled Jihoon. He had opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could make a sound, a pair of hands grabbed his waist and pulled him right into a long, languid, loving kiss.

  
  


Jihoon couldn’t help but sigh into it, melting against Jeonghan’s chest as shivers and goosebumps made his skin prickle with satisfaction.

  
  


“I’ll see you soon, my Nymphaea,” whispered Jeonghan, staring right into the night sky of Jihoon’s eyes.

“Soon,” repeated Jihoon, a part of him finally believing something he knew was dangerous, something he knew was foolish.

  
  


Maybe, just maybe, this could work out.

Maybe, despite the forces that they had  _ no _ chance at winning against trying to keep them apart, they would be okay.

  
  
  


☼

  
  
  


A week later, when Jihoon finally returned to the mortal realm, he felt as though he was a bird who had been released from his cage. He couldn’t quite place when it happened, but the Moon Kingdom had become less of a home to him, and more of a prison. Being forced to spend days upon days there was a cruel form of torture, but one he had to endure unless he wanted to be forbidden from visiting the mortal realm at all.

The Moon Kingdom was a beautiful place, no one could deny that, but it had been corrupted by greed and arrogance, and Jihoon just couldn’t see past that.

  
  


So when he entered the glade and saw Jeonghan sitting by the pond, deep in thought as he stared down at the grass in front of him, Jihoon felt as though he had come home.

  
  


“Hi,” greeted Jihoon, sitting down beside Jeonghan, who wrapped an arm around the moon faerie’s shoulders, and offered him a wide grin.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” replied Jeonghan sweetly, his thumbs pressing gentle circles into Jihoon’s shoulder through his shirt.

In Jeonghan’s other hand, Jihoon noticed a palm-sized glass bottle. The liquid inside it was the colour of honey, and almost seemed to shimmer as it caught the moonlight.

“What’s that?” Asked Jihoon, nodding towards the bottle.

“Ah,” started Jeonghan, holding the bottle closer to Jihoon. “It’s… a chance.”

“A chance? What do you mean ‘a chance’?”

“Well, the past week, I’ve been doing a lot of research. I just… I wanted to figure something out for us. I’m not sure about you, but I’ve found that this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“You’re right,” confessed Jihoon with a small smile. “I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“Me too, my love. And so, I spent most of the past week trying to find  _ anything _ that would help us. I wasn’t very successful, until I found out about this,” explained Jeonghan, shaking the bottle in his hands. “It’s a mortality potion. It was created by a sun faerie centuries ago. The faerie who drinks it gives up immortal life, but they’ll be free from the kingdoms’ rules for the rest of their lives.”

  
  


As soon as Jeonghan finished speaking, a war broke out within Jihoon. His heart was singing an endless chorus of “yes”, soaring at the mere possibility of this new, free life. But the churning and tightening deep in his gut told him “no”, that it was a bad, bad idea.

Jihoon didn’t want to be a puppet of fear, he didn’t want to let it control him, but the guilt he felt at what he was making Jeonghan consider was just too much.

  
  


“How did you get your hands on it?” Asked Jihoon, forcing himself to mask his apprehension. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of potion you could brew in a week…”

“In the Sun Kingdom, there’s an  _ enormous _ archive of potions, charms, spells, you name it. I did some digging, and eventually, I found it. I don’t think they’ll notice it’s missing, considering how much garbage it was hidden under.”

Jihoon replied with a weak chuckle, one that did little to mask the nervousness that only seemed to bubble even more ferociously as the seconds passed. Staring at the bottle in Jeonghan’s hand, he bit his bottom lip hard as the internal battle within him grew bloodier and bloodier.

“Nymphaea?” Asked Jeonghan, and Jihoon mentally kicked himself. There was no point in trying to hide anything from the sun faerie; nothing slipped by him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” replied Jihoon weakly, far too weakly to convince Jeonghan. “Can I see the bottle?”

  
  


The bottle touched Jihoon’s skin for less than a second before an electric, white-hot spark of pain flashed up his arm. It felt like he had dipped his fingertips into a stream of molten lava, the pain so intense his vision momentarily went white. His fingers spasmed from the pain, making the bottle fall from his grasp.

  
  


“Are you okay?” Asked Jeonghan, his hand rhythmically rubbing up and down the moon faerie’s back. Jihoon could barely hear his voice from how badly his head was spinning. “Jihoon?”

It was a few moments until Jihoon could respond, until the pain subsided enough for his mind to even begin forming words.

“I-I think so,” he grimaced, his eyes glued down to the small, red welts forming on his fingertips.

“Let me see,” said Jeonghan, his voice soft and soothing as he took Jihoon’s hand in his,

and Jihoon screamed.

  
  
  


It wasn’t the bottle that burned him,

  
  


it was Jeonghan.

  
  
  


The pain of that realization hurt more deeply than any burn could. He had longed for little more than Jeonghan’s soft touches, his small, soothing gestures of comfort, for a week. But somehow, they were stripped from him, the solace they provided replaced with a searing, agonizing pain.

Shocked and hurt into silence, the two faeries did nothing but stare at each other for a few moments. Jeonghan’s eyes were wide, disbelieving, brimming with tears as his mind echoed with the sound of Jihoon’s cry of pain. The fear, pain, and anger brewing within him were so intense, so immeasurable that they left him paralyzed.

  
  


But not for long.

  
  


Without a word, Jeonghan got up and grabbed the bottle from the ground. There was not so much as a scratch on the glass, the grassy floor having cushioned its fall. Not giving himself time to think, he started easing the cork out, his hands shaking so badly that the simple task became an incredibly difficult feat.

“Jeonghan,” started Jihoon, not bothering to hide the fear in his voice. “What are you doing?”

“They’ve gone too far,” responded Jeonghan, his voice surprisingly level; a sharp contrast to the unadulterated hurt and fury that painted his face. “I can’t let them do this.”

“Jeonghan…  _ Jeonghan! _ ” Shouted Jihoon, finally getting the sun faerie to stop. “Just… Just think about this for a second.”

“What’s there to think about, Jihoon?” Barked Jeonghan, the words coming out harsher than he intended them to. “Jihoon, they’ve waged war. They’ve waged war and  _ we’re _ their weapons. I can’t let them continue.”

“I know that. But… it’s too big a sacrifice.”

“What? Immortal life? I don’t care about that, Jihoon. Compared to you, it means nothing.”

“It’s not just immortal life, Jeonghan,” insisted Jihoon, ignoring the tears that threatened to drip down his face. “It’s everything you know. Mortals can’t feel magickal energy like faeries can. You won’t be able to feel sun energy anymore. This glade, your beach, they’ll only be pretty sights. All the things that bring you comfort and happiness will be gone. Compared to that,  _ I _ mean nothing.”

  
  


Jihoon was scared,  _ so _ scared, but he couldn’t let Jeonghan sacrifice so much, not for him.

  
  


“Jihoon…” whispered Jeonghan, and the look he gave Jihoon was almost enough to make the moon faerie burst into tears on the spot. “How could you say that? Do you think I’d even  _ consider _ this if I didn’t think you were worth more than all that? Do you really think my feelings for you aren’t genuine enough?”

Those simple questions felt like a slap straight across Jihoon’s face.

“I didn’t… Jeonghan… I know your feelings are genuine…”

“Then why won’t you let me do this?”

“Because my feelings for you are genuine too!” Snapped Jihoon, unable to hold his tears back anymore. “You’re the most precious person in my life, Jeonghan. The thought of losing you scares me more than anything, but I love you too much to let you give everything up. I’m just not worth it.”

“Sweetheart,” breathed Jeonghan, silent tears streaking his cheeks. “You  _ are _ worth it. Please, let me do this.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jihoon, his vision blurry from his tears. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”

  
  


All hopes Jihoon once had vanished to black, like they had never existed at all. It felt like they had been cruel tricks, luring him into a false sense of security before crushing him with the reality of what they had gotten themselves into. He was frozen; not even the ghost of an idea there to guide them out from the darkness surrounding them.

Feeling something soft on his cheek, he looked up to find Jeonghan using his sleeve to wipe the tears that were endlessly falling down his cheeks. And that one, simple action made Jihoon’s heart break in his chest all over again.

  
  


“I’m going to get us out of this, okay?” Whispered Jeonghan, his own voice unsteady. “We’ll figure something out. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to make you see just how much you’re worth to me. Maybe then you’ll let me drink this potion.”

Jihoon closed his eyes, leaning into Jeonghan’s sleeve. It wasn’t the same, and it never would be, but it was  _ something _ . Exhausted, he didn’t want to think anymore, so he just nodded, nuzzling against Jeonghan’s sleeve.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay…”

  
  
  


But in truth, Jihoon didn’t know if there even  _ was _ a way out anymore.

  
  
  


☼

  
  
  


Jeonghan was late.

It had been three weeks since he had last seen Jihoon. All too late, he realized that they never talked about when they would see each other again. And so, with no way to talk to Jihoon, he took it upon himself to visit the mortal realm every night, and wait to see if Jihoon would come.

  
  


As the days passed by, and Jihoon was nowhere to be found, Jeonghan’s concern only seemed to grow.

  
  


Typically, he would leave during sunset, when there were other sun faeries either exiting the Sun Kingdom, or returning from the mortal realm. He would blend in with those sun faeries, and escape detection from the guards. Tonight, however, having been so caught up in research, Jeonghan was too late to do that. The sun had already set, and no one would be passing through the gateway.

Jeonghan knew that it wouldn’t be too difficult to slip past the guards, but it wasn’t his preferred option. It was far riskier, especially since he wasn’t as good at sneaking past them as Jihoon seemed to be.

Tonight, however, he wasn’t left with much of a choice.

After several minutes of waiting, Jeonghan saw a window, a brief window of opportunity where the guards had their backs turned and if he was quick, he could make it.

  
  


But before he could take a single step, a group of sun faeries—all cloaked and hooded—walked through the gateway. The two guards in the back were dragging someone along with them, their head hung heavy between their shoulders, and a deep, angry gash on the side of their neck.

Jeonghan only caught a glimpse of the person’s face, but when he did, he felt as though his blood froze in his veins. It was a miracle he didn’t scream, that he managed to stay standing at all.

  
  
  


Because the mere sight of an unconscious Jihoon being dragged through the Sun Kingdom felt as though Jeonghan’s entire world was crashing down all around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry...


	4. Love, and its Decisive Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is a little late! And also disclaimer this chapter is a lot more painful than I thought it would be because I kind of got carried away...

Though a part of him already knew where the guards had been ordered to take Jihoon, Jeonghan followed them anyway, sticking closely to the shadows. A part of him hoped,  _ prayed _ even, that he was wrong, that the guards would surprise him and take Jihoon somewhere else.

But his prayers fell on deaf ears, and Jeonghan had to stifle a cry of terror and frustration when he saw the guards open the very door that stirred such sharp dread in the depths of his stomach. 

  
  


To most sun faeries, that chamber was a myth. Most believed it was nothing more than a scare tactic devised by the King to keep the Moon Kingdom in check. Jeonghan had never wanted to believe it existed, but he had to be sure. And all it took was one night of snooping around for his view of the Sun Kingdom to be forever tainted.

It was the very night the Sun Kingdom ceased being his home.

There was a chamber, one that was hidden deep within the shadows of the Sun Kingdom’s dungeons and locked behind a heavy, sturdy copper door. Few people ever entered the chamber, and most who did never returned.

  
  


It was the Sun Kingdom’s special little chamber for captured moon faeries. And it was nothing short of sadistic.

  
  


The room was nothing but windows; three walls and a ceiling entirely covered in glass. Whether it was simply a strong type of glass or glass fortified with magick, Jeonghan didn’t know, but it was stronger than iron. No matter the time of day, there was always a direct stream of sunlight that flooded the room with its intense, almost violent energy. Even for a sun faerie, the sheer amount of energy would be overwhelming to the point of severe dizziness, but for a moon faerie, it was  _ just _ short of fatal.

It wouldn’t kill the moon faerie, but it would make them crave death as though it were the sweetest of fruits.

  
  


Were fate leaning a mere inch in his favour, the guards would have left Jihoon behind that heavy, locked copper door. After all, Jihoon was unconscious, and there was no doubt they were going to bind him heavily. But, to Jeonghan’s dismay, they stationed themselves on either side of the door, and showed no signs of leaving.

  
  


Jeonghan had no choice but to remain crouched within the shadows, his eyes fixated on the door like a cat stalking its prey. 

  
  


By what he assumed was daybreak, the guards walked away, leaving the chamber unguarded and free for Jeonghan to sneak into. And yet, though there was a moment where impulse rushed through his veins with such ferocity it almost blinded him, he didn’t move.

Though the sunlight in that chamber wouldn’t hurt him, there was no doubt it would be too much for his body to handle. He needed one, priceless thing: the clarity of mind to sneak into the chamber and figure out how to free Jihoon as quickly as he possibly could. And he  _ couldn’t _ do that if he was battling a dizziness so intense it made keeping his head upright impossible.

Jeonghan had no choice. No matter how badly his heart ached in his chest, no matter how loudly his muscles screamed at him to just  _ go _ , no matter how much he hated everything about the situation he was in, he had no choice. 

  
  


All he could do was remain hidden until sundown.

  
  


Though he could have, Jeonghan didn’t sleep. Even if he tried, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. His head throbbed, and his eyes begged to rest for just a few moments. But whenever his eyelids drooped shut for a mere second, his skin prickled, as though it were sensing an immediate danger that didn’t exist. Soon enough, he gave up.

Sitting in the darkness and silence, Jeonghan quickly realized something. He had no plan. The door wasn’t an issue, he knew more than enough spells that would grant him access to rooms with far more intricate locks, but he didn’t know  _ exactly _ how Jihoon was being kept inside that chamber.

Was he simply shackled to the floor?

Was he bound there by some enchantment?

And besides, how would he be able to free Jihoon if he couldn’t even touch him?

The mortality potion was still in his pocket, and its weight provided Jeonghan with the smallest speck of comfort. Should push come to shove, should he exhaust all other options, he could drink the potion, free Jihoon, and leave the Sun Kingdom forever.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, not by a long short. There were still too many unknown variables, but he had a surplus of time to try and work around them, and until he did—assuming he could in the first place—it was  _ something _ .

  
  


A faint, faraway sound interrupted Jeonghan’s train of thought. Faint, but almost explosive as it tore through the thick silence, making Jeonghan look around him desperately as he tried to figure out what the source of the sound was.

But there was nothing. Even when he poked his head out of the shadows that veiled him, the corridor was as empty as it had been for the past hour or so. And yet, every now and again, just as the silence settled once more, the sound would shatter it as though it were cracked glass.

It was only after the sound reverberated around the empty corridor a few more times that Jeonghan realized what it was.

  
  


Jihoon was screaming.

  
  


No words could come close to describing the effect those screams had on Jeonghan. They sounded raw and desperate, yet as though they were being bitten back; as though Jihoon was gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to keep any sound from escaping past his lips, but the screams ripped through him anyway. Each and every one felt like a spear that lodged itself in between Jeonghan’s ribs, impaling him to the wall behind him. Heartbreak didn’t come close to describing what he felt, it was so much more than that. 

He wanted to cry, to sob so fiercely his body would eventually shut down on him. He wanted to scream, to match those ripping out of Jihoon’s throat until the only sound echoing throughout the Sun Kingdom was the sound of screams. He wanted to dig his fingers into the skin of his chest, to tear through the flesh and rip out his burning heart to stop the waves of excruciation that spread through his body with every beat. 

  
  


But he did none of that. 

Jeonghan sat paralyzed in the shadows, silent tears streaming down his face until his cheeks were soaked and his eyes burned.

  
  


Eventually, the hours started blurring together. As though in a trance, Jeonghan stared at the ground immediately in front of him with unfocused, tearful eyes. He didn’t move, he  _ couldn’t _ move, he just sat there, waiting until sunset, when he  _ hoped _ Jihoon’s screams would die down.

And once they did, Jeonghan forced himself not to move, to close his eyes with balled fists and count to 300. He didn’t like it, but he knew he had to wait until there was as little sunlight in that chamber as possible.

But if he was honest, he also needed time to steel himself. Despite waiting for hours, he  _ knew _ he wasn’t ready to see what a full day in that torture chamber had done to Jihoon.

  
  


By the time he reached 300, Jeonghan released the firm grip he had over all of his instincts, 

and he darted.

  
  


As expected, the door itself wasn’t much trouble. He supposed the king had never anticipated anyone would find out about this chamber—let alone try to break into it—and so the only lock on this enormous, heavy door was a simple one; one that could be broken using the simplest of spells. Pushing it open was a more difficult ordeal, but he managed to get it open  _ just _ enough for him to slide through.

Jeonghan was barely halfway past the doorway before he had to stop. The sight before him made him feel like he had been struck by lightning, like every muscle was shocked to the point of atrophy.

  
  


Jihoon’s wrists were bound firmly to a short iron rod that protruded from the ground, forcing him to remain in a kneeling position with his head hung heavily towards his chest. The smallest possible wave of relief washed over Jeonghan when he saw that nothing but rope was what kept him bound to that rod, but that relief was quickly replaced by alarm as he realized that the ropes were tied so tightly they dug into Jihoon’s skin. Blood stained Jihoon’s hands, and dyed the rope a deep, dark red.

Jeonghan barely registered how the gash on Jihoon’s neck seemed angrier, or how his face and forearms were littered with small but severe burns; because after the initial shock had subsided, the sun faerie realized it was a matter of seconds before the guards came back, and though the door was only open a crack, it was still  _ open _ . And so, he slipped fully into the chamber, and pushed the door closed as quickly and quietly as he could manage.

  
  


“Jihoon?” Whispered Jeonghan, his voice urgent as he dropped to his knees before the moon faerie. His fingers reached for Jihoon’s face, and he barely managed to catch himself before he inflicted even  _ more _ pain on the moon faerie. But Jihoon didn’t seem to be responding to his words, so Jeonghan pulled his sleeves over his hands and took the moon faerie’s face into his grasp with as much gentleness as he could possibly muster.

“Jihoon,” he repeated, holding Jihoon’s chin in the palm of his covered hand as he used the other to run through the moon faerie’s hair. “Sweetheart, it’s me.  _ Please _ , wake up.”

  
  


It took a few moments, but Jihoon  _ finally _ responded. A broken wince escaped his lips as his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched.

There was no doubt in Jeonghan’s mind that the amount of pain he was experiencing in that moment was nothing short of  _ astronomical _ .

  
  


“Hannie,” whimpered Jihoon, squinting as he struggled to make his eyes focus.

“I’m here, my love. I’m here,” whispered Jeonghan, tears dripping down his face. 

  
  


He didn’t even try to stop them.

  
  


When Jeonghan’s gaze dropped down to the burns and gash on Jihoon’s neck, he saw a familiar, thin black string, and his breath hitched in his throat as a wave of relief crashed down on him.

They hadn’t found the charm, and though its magick was no match for the overwhelming, concentrated sun energy it was faced with, it still protected Jihoon, if only a little bit.

The realization made Jeonghan hold Jihoon’s face tighter in his hands. He had been  _ so _ close to losing him,  _ so _ close to being met with Jihoon’s limp, barely breathing body; his skin burned beyond recognition as life slowly but surely bled out of him.

  
  


But his moon faerie was alive. He was very hurt, but he was alive. For a moment, Jeonghan felt the need to thank every and any power he could think of.

  
  


“I should have listened to you,” started Jihoon, his hoarse voice bringing Jeonghan out of his own thoughts. “I—”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ , Jihoon,” interrupted Jeonghan. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

Whatever part of Jeonghan’s heart that was still intact shattered in his chest. Jihoon was in agony, so much agony he was struggling to simply remain conscious, and yet, he still believed it was his own fault.

“But—”

“No,” said Jeonghan firmly. “You were scared, that’s not your fault.”

Jihoon didn’t respond. Instead, he looked back down at his knees, his eyelids droopy but open nonetheless. As he did so, Jeonghan’s eyes flickered back to Jihoon’s bound, bloodied wrists. Up close, the wounds looked even worse. Removing the rope from where it lodged itself into Jihoon’s skin would no doubt be painful, but he  _ had _ to get it off.

“Sweetheart,” he started, coaxing Jihoon’s gaze back up to his face. “It’ll be painful, but I’m going to try to take these off you. Is that alright?”

Stone cold dread swirled within the night sky of Jihoon’s eyes for a fleeting moment. It was so intense that Jeonghan was ready to consider other options,  _ any _ other option that wouldn’t inflict more pain on the moon faerie, but Jihoon nodded, holding onto the iron rod with a white-knuckled grip to steel himself before the pain hit.

  
  


It was a matter of seconds before Jeonghan realized it was a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. He didn’t want to risk burning Jihoon more, especially since he had no  _ real _ idea of how much damage his touch could do, so he had to undo the knot with his sleeves over his hands. But it was just too  _ tight _ . Doing it with uncovered fingers would still be difficult, but he’d be able to ease his fingers in between the knot and eventually, it would get loose enough for him to pull apart.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult knot to undo, but the cruel tightness with which it was tied and his inability to use his hands properly made undoing it nearly impossible.

  
  


Moving away from the actual knot after a few, fruitless minutes, Jeonghan ghosted his hand over the stretch of rope digging into Jihoon’s wrists.

“I want to see if I can pull the rope enough for you to be able to get your hands out,” he mumbled, almost to himself before bringing his covered hand to the back of Jihoon’s head. “Do you think that’ll be alright?”

Jihoon looked utterly spent, his brow furrowed and arms so tense they trembled, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“Be gentle, please,” was all he whispered.

  
  


Jeonghan couldn’t do it. No matter how much he tried, whispering apology after apology as he did, there was simply no way for him to pull the rope in a direction that didn’t make it dig deeper into Jihoon’s wrists. And trying to pull the rope out of Jihoon’s skin was out of the question, it would be far too painful.

“ _ Please, _ ” sobbed Jeonghan, tears of frustration clouding his vision as he felt whatever hope he had left slip out of his grasp.

“It’s okay,” whispered Jihoon, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “It’s okay, darling.”

“I can’t untie it,” cried Jeonghan, tears dripping freely down his face. “I have to get you out of here but I can’t untie the ropes and I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” repeated Jihoon, and the calmness on his face, the steadiness of his voice, it  _ terrified _ Jeonghan. “But it’s a matter of time before guards come in here and they  _ cannot _ find you.”

As his panicked mind struggled to process Jihoon’s words, Jeonghan stared at the moon faerie, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“What… What are you saying?”

“I love you, Jeonghan. I love you more than I ever thought could be possible. And I’m so  _ thankful _ . You showed me so much I never thought I’d get the opportunity to see. I knew it when I first met you and I know it now more than ever: you’re sunlight personified. Every inch of you captures sunlight and radiates it out again. But when it’s from you, it’s gentle, it doesn’t hurt. It’s not because you’re a sun faerie, but because of  _ you _ . Something unique to you and you alone manages to take something that can be so searing hot and turn it into something so warm and soft. Loving you has been the easiest, most comfortable thing I’ve ever done, and so this decision is just as easy. I can’t leave here, Hannie, but you  _ have _ to live. Please, my love. For me.”

  
  


By the time Jihoon finished talking, Jeonghan was sobbing heavily, and in his cries were the unmistakable sound of a heart splintering to pieces. He pressed his palms into the ground, his fingers curling inwards as though looking for something to hold onto. The pain that flowed from him was so intense it was almost tangible, like a frigid, fierce wind. Everything hurt more than he thought possible, like someone was tearing his skin away from his bones layer by layer until there was nothing left of him.

His body was rejecting the mere idea of leaving Jihoon. 

  
  


“I can’t,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry Jihoon but I  _ can’t _ leave you here.”

“It’s okay,” crooned Jihoon, still smiling softly at Jeonghan despite the tears running down his face. “Please Hannie. Our kingdoms cannot keep this war going. Soon enough it’s going to come to an end one way or another, and I want you to be there for it. I’m  _ one _ moon faerie, Jeonghan. There’s so much more out there for you than me.”

“I don’t want it,” said Jeonghan, his voice sharp and desperate. “I don’t want any of it. If I leave you here and let you die, I won’t have  _ anything _ anymore. I’ve always hated the Sun Kingdom, and my hatred for it will only grow the longer I stay in the very place that killed the person I love the most. The mortal realm will be empty without you, it won’t mean anything to me if you’re not there to enjoy it with me. Jihoon… my love… I don’t care about our kingdoms, I don’t care about anything they do anymore. You’re all I want. Only you.”

Jihoon was no longer smiling. His lips trembled as he tried to hold in his sobs, his eyes squeezed shut to stop any more tears from rolling down his cheeks.

“We’ve tried everything, Jeonghan,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

  
  


For a few seconds, the two faeries stared at each other in silence, their gazes stubborn and pleading. But suddenly, Jeonghan’s eyes widened and his hands flew to his pocket.

Jihoon was wrong, they  _ hadn’t _ tried everything. Jeonghan had just forgotten about his last resort.

  
  


“Please,” pleaded Jeonghan, his eyes flicking from the bottle to Jihoon. “I know you don’t want me to do this and I know I said I’d wait until you were ready— _ if _ you were ever ready—but this is our last chance…”

Jeonghan couldn’t read Jihoon’s face as he stared at the bottle. It was a strange mixture of fear, apprehension, and resignation, but there was also a hint of hope, of longing, even.

He was expecting another argument, but instead… 

Jihoon nodded.

  
  


“Wait… really?” Breathed Jeonghan in disbelief.

“We might as well try it,” said Jihoon, the softest of tremors in his voice as he eyed the bottle. “If it’s really our last option…”

  
  


Jeonghan blinked, and then moved so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t drop the bottle. In a flash, the cork was pulled out, and the honey coloured contents of the bottle were being poured down the sun faerie’s throat. Jeonghan only got half of the liquid down before he sputtered, forced to put the bottle down beside him before he started coughing. At first, he thought it was the horrible bitterness of the liquid overwhelming his senses—though it looked like honey, it tasted more like unripe berries—but he quickly realized that wasn’t it.

As the potion started taking effect, it was as though something was bleeding out of Jeonghan, almost as though he was losing his lifeforce itself. It was his magick, the very magick that made him a faerie, that gave him immortal life.

To a faerie, that magick was as vital as blood, and so to lose it—whether willingly or unwillingly— _ couldn’t _ be an easy feat.

But once the wave of discomfort and disorientation passed, Jeonghan felt no different. The absence of his magick was noticeable, but not necessarily uncomfortable, and his head pounded in his skull, but he didn’t feel any different.

  
  


Mind full of paralyzing doubts, Jeonghan reached tentative, trembling fingers to the back of Jihoon’s hands…

and just as skin touched skin, the two faeries locked eyes.

  
  


“It worked,” whispered Jihoon, eyes wide with disbelief.

  
  


Jeonghan wasted no time. He held Jihoon’s wrists steady with one hand, and with the other, he eased the knot until it came loose. Removing the part of the rope that had sunken into Jihoon’s skin took a little bit longer—after all, if he wasn’t gentle he would likely make Jihoon’s injuries worse—but within minutes, Jihoon was free.

As Jeonghan grabbed Jihoon’s forearm, trying to help him up to his feet, the moon faerie placed a hand on his chest at the same time, pushing him away. Before Jeonghan knew what was happening, Jihoon was gulping down what was left of the mortality potion, his face scrunching up as the bitterness hit the back of his throat.

  
  


Jeonghan froze, watching Jihoon sputter and cough with wide, worried eyes. The mortality potion was, after all, made by a sun faerie who likely never expected it would be used by anyone  _ but _ a sun faerie.

But soon enough, Jihoon leaned into Jeonghan’s side, the same discomfort Jeonghan had felt still on his face.

“Jihoon…” started Jeonghan, his heart still pounding in his chest.

“I refuse to live an immortal life knowing someday I’ll have to watch you die,” said Jihoon, making Jeonghan hold him tighter against him for a moment before they bolted.

  
  


They ran without really even seeing what was around them. Jihoon held onto Jeonghan’s arm as tightly as he could, and let himself be all but dragged through the Sun Kingdom. Before long, they could hear shouting around them, could  _ feel _ the commotion they were causing. But they didn’t stop. They just ran, 

and ran,

and ran.

  
  


And when stone turned to grass, Jeonghan stumbled, the sudden unfamiliarity making him fall to the ground, taking Jihoon down along with him.

It was dark all around them, the inkiness of the night broken only by the soft, silvery haze of moonlight.

  
  


Moonlight…

  
  


Only then did it hit Jeonghan.

They made it. They escaped.

  
  


And neither the Moon Kingdom nor the Sun Kingdom had any authority over them anymore.

  
  


Jeonghan sat up from the forest floor, looking around frantically for Jihoon before a weight collided with his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, and lips latched onto his.

Much like their very first, the kiss wasn’t perfect. It was desperate, the adrenaline and fear coursing through their veins making it almost messy. Both of them were crying, their tears mixing together and their bodies trembling against each other.

But, much like their very first, it didn’t need to be perfect. Because, despite its imperfection, it was  _ right _ .

  
  


“I love you,” whispered Jeonghan once they broke apart, his face buried in the side of Jihoon’s neck. Though they were now safe, he wasn’t yet willing to let go of Jihoon.

“I love you too,” replied Jihoon, the quickness of his reply making Jeonghan smile and press the smallest, most delicate of kisses against his neck.

  
  
  


And Jihoon  _ knew _ it was the truest thing he had ever spoken aloud; because hanging in the sky was a bright, powerful full moon, 

  
  
and he didn’t for a  _ minute _ miss feeling its energy coursing through his veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silver lining: this is the end of the pain and the final chapter will be very cute! Thank you so much for reading! <33


	5. Carry Me Slowly, My Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies once again for how late this is!! I had a slight flare up and it was hard to focus on writing but the fic is finally done and it’s quite a sweet ending if I do say so myself! I hope you enjoy!

Finding a new normal wasn’t as easy a process as might have been expected. After all, despite both spending the better half of their lifetimes hoping for a way out of their kingdoms, neither Jeonghan nor Jihoon ever let themselves believe that hope would come to fruition.

Still recovering from all they had been put through, they decided to spend the first few days in the glade. It was a strange sensation to be there without being able to feel neither the sun nor the moon energy flowing through it, but it was still a warm, safe, and relatively comfortable place.

  
  


It was more than enough for them until they gained enough strength and peace of mind to figure out what to do.

  
  


Jihoon was quiet for those first few days. It was to be expected. Though he’d heard his screams and saw the aftermath, Jeonghan could never even begin to understand what being in that chamber must have felt like. And so, all he could do for Jihoon was to be there. He didn’t push him, didn’t make him talk about the agony inflicted on him; he was just there, ready to provide whatever Jihoon needed from him.

Besides, it helped him too. Though, in his eyes, it was incomparable to Jihoon’s experience, being so close to losing the one person for whom he would give up his magick left him shaken beyond what he thought possible. They were no longer in any imminent danger, and yet, Jeonghan was terrified that something would happen to Jihoon again. But being there with him, having him no more than an arm’s reach away, it helped ease that fear until it was little more than a whisper in the back of his mind.

  
  


They didn’t talk much for those first few days, but truth be told, they didn’t really feel the need to.

  
  


Three days after their escape from the Sun Kingdom, Jeonghan woke with the sun. It was a crisp autumn dawn, and the sun had only just started to rise. The air was getting colder with the approach of winter, the breeze light but biting. 

The absence of Jihoon’s comfortable weight against him was as noticeable as the absence of one of his limbs.

Despite telling himself not to immediately succumb to panic, Jeonghan shot up, his eyes scanning the glade so rapidly his mind barely managed to process the trees and grass in front of him. And just as quickly as he sat up, his face flushed red hot with embarrassment once his eyes settled on Jihoon sitting only a few footsteps away from him. 

  
  


Ridding himself entirely of his fears would by no means be an easy task.

  
  


“Hey,” whispered Jeonghan, his voice thick and heavy as sleep slowly and reluctantly released its hold over him. He shifted over to Jihoon, and planted a gentle kiss onto his temple.

Soft morning kisses, light touches, warm holds… They had all become second nature.

“Did I wake you?” Asked Jihoon, hooking his arm around Jeonghan’s and intertwining their fingers.

“No, love, you didn’t. But what are  _ you _ doing awake so early?”

Jihoon sighed, dropping his head down onto Jeonghan’s shoulder. If he were to be honest, he’d barely slept all night. Though the glade and forest still did wonders to calm his tumultuous mind, it couldn’t solve the puzzle that was constantly tugging at his consciousness. He had been trying  _ so _ hard to work it out, but with every passing minute he spent trying to fit the pieces together, he felt like his mind was going to implode.

“Just… I’m thinking.”

“What about?”

“Where do we go from here?” Asked Jihoon, closing his eyes as another sigh left his lips. “We can’t stay in the glade forever. It keeps getting colder and before we know it winter will be here. We’re not faeries anymore. We won’t survive.”

“Then we’ll find somewhere. Mortals have always built villages and towns close to forests. There’s bound to be one nearby.”

Jihoon didn’t say a word, but Jeonghan felt him stiffen up against him.

“You don’t like that idea?” Asked Jeonghan, pressing circles into the base of Jihoon’s thumb.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” said Jihoon, voice soft. “It’s just… It’s scary.

“Scary? Why are you scared, my love?”

“I’ve never interacted with mortals before. I don’t know how they live. What if I give away the fact that we used to be faeries? Not all humans like the Fae…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” cooed Jeonghan, pressing light, soft kisses to the crown of Jihoon’s head. “You won’t give us away. You’re a lot more amiable than you might think… or than you’d like to let on.”

Jihoon chuckled, curling his fingers into a light fist and playfully hitting Jeonghan’s stomach.

“Thanks,” he muttered, squeezing Jeonghan’s hand.

“But… you do make a good point,” started Jeonghan, resting his head atop Jihoon’s. “Maybe living in the midst of mortals isn’t the best plan. So… any ideas?”

“Well… Maybe if we  _ do _ find a village, we could live a comfortable distance away from it. We’d be close enough to the forest that we’d feel safe, but close enough to the village so that getting food, clothes, or anything else we might need wouldn’t be so hard.”

Jeonghan simply hummed, falling silent for a few moments. This sort of silence once left Jihoon paralyzed with fear, as though the anxious thoughts in his mind managed to bind his limbs. But now, Jihoon knew Jeonghan far,  _ far _ better; he knew when his partner’s silences meant nothing more than he was truly appreciating whatever Jihoon had given him.

So, Jihoon simply waited patiently, listening to the steady, strong flow of Jeonghan’s breathing.

“A little cottage on the outskirts of the forest,” murmured Jeonghan. “I love it.”

  
  


Without another word, Jeonghan rose to his feet. He kept holding Jihoon’s hand in his, but didn’t pull him up. Instead, he waited, smiling down at Jihoon’s astonished expression.

“Well?” Teased Jeonghan. “What are you waiting for?”

“N-Now?” Started Jihoon, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? Of all our options, this is probably the one that requires the most work.”

With a blindingly bright grin on his face, Jeonghan kneeled back down onto the grassy floor. His free hand cupped Jihoon’s chin as he kissed him; a kiss so deep and fervid it was as though Jeonghan was trying to steal the air from Jihoon’s lungs.

“So sweet,” he whispered, murmuring the words into Jihoon’s mouth. “No amount of work is too much for you, my Nymphaea.”

A shade of peach bloomed across Jihoon’s cheeks, making him look so ethereally soft that Jeonghan felt compelled to leave another, gentler, lighter kiss on his lips. This time, he pulled Jihoon to his feet as he kissed him, and when he pulled away, a soft, excited smile was on his face.

  
  


The road before them was intimidatingly uncertain, but the tingling they felt in their stomachs wasn’t fear. It was excitement.

Because for the first time since their escape, they truly felt like they were starting to build their own lives.

☼

It was a full day’s walk before they found it. A sad little thing, really. The small cottage seemed so old, so dark, that it was a wonder it was still standing after what must have been years. The light grey stone of the walls was covered in so much dust the mere thought of scrubbing it clean was painful, and the dark wooden door was in desperate need of repairs. And yet, it seemed alive, almost welcoming, as though it had been longing for someone to inhabit it for years on end.

Jihoon was the first to notice it. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the old cottage with eyes brimming with wonder and longing. It didn’t take long for Jeonghan to follow his line of vision and see the cottage too, and when he did, a smile lifted his lips and he tugged Jihoon along to get a closer look at it.

“Wait,” started Jihoon, his eyes flicking between Jeonghan and the cottage. “Hannie, what if someone’s still living there.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Jeonghan, squinting to try and peek through the dusty windows. “It seems like whoever lived here abandoned it long ago. There’s barely anything inside.”

On one side of the cottage was a small plot of earth. It was brimming with weeds, but it’s intended use was clear as day.

“Whoever lived here must have liked gardening,” murmured Jihoon, crouching down by the soil. Even after years of neglect, the soil was fertile and healthy.

“We can have a little garden too,” hummed Jeonghan, looking longingly down at Jihoon.

“But what if someone already intends to live here?” Asked Jihoon, rising to his feet. He loved the cottage from the moment he laid eyes on it, and he couldn’t deny that it was the  _ perfect _ place for them to live, but he didn’t want to get attached. The cottage was old and dirty, but otherwise in good shape. It just seemed too unlikely that no one else saw its potential. “How do we—”

Jeonghan interrupted him with a hand on his stomach. He was looking behind him, where two elderly women were emerging from the forest, following the path back to their village. They carried baskets filled with mushrooms, wild herbs and greens, and a bright assortment of various berries. Immersed in their conversation, they didn’t seem to notice the two until Jeonghan took a few steps towards them, Jihoon following him with tentative steps.

“Sorry to disturb you,” started Jeonghan, smiling politely at the women. “Would you happen to know anything about this cottage here?”

The two women exchanged curious glances before one of them nodded at Jeonghan, a small, well-mannered smile on her face.

“It’s been abandoned for as long as I can remember,” she said. “No one’s really known who it belongs to, but I suppose no one’s had the heart to tear it down. It is quite pretty, and there’s really no point in demolishing it.”

“And no one’s expressed any desire to move into this cottage?”

“No, that I’m sure of. Word would have travelled awfully quick if someone chose to move out here.”

Jihoon curled his fingers around Jeonghan’s arm, looking up at his partner with wide, excited eyes.

“That means…” he breathed, a grin blossoming on his face when he saw his elation mirrored in Jeonghan’s expression.

“You two wouldn’t be thinking of living here, would you?” Asked the other woman, the one who hadn’t yet spoken a word.

“Well, yes,” started Jeonghan, his smile less stiffly polite and more relaxed. “We’re not from anywhere near here, and well… we prefer living closer to the woods if at all possible. But we needed to be sure that no one else had their eye on this place.”

“Then rest assured, my boy. The place is yours, and we’ll let the residents down in the village know that. But fixing up such an old cottage will be a very difficult task for just two people, to say the least. Do you want us to send some help?”

The way Jihoon’s fingers dug deeper into his arm was answer enough for Jeonghan.

“Oh, no thank you,” he replied. “I think we’ll manage.”

“Alright then, if you’re sure,” said the old woman, nodding at the two. “If you need anything, you can find us in the bakery in the village. We’ll be happy to provide you with anything you might.”

“That’s very kind of you,” smiled Jeonghan, bowing down before the two women, Jihoon following suit beside him.

“Nonsense. You seem like lovely young men. I do hope you enjoy it here.”

  
  


Jeonghan and Jihoon thanked them profusely before the women waved them away, and continued down the path. Jihoon was thrumming with glee, making Jeonghan turn towards him and wrap his arms around his waist, rocking them side to side.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy,” teased Jeonghan, kissing the tip of Jihoon’s nose.

“I like it here,” started Jihoon, beaming up at Jeonghan. “It sounds silly but it’s as though this cottage was waiting for us. It feels… it feels like home.”

With nothing more than a soft click of his tongue, Jeonghan pulled Jihoon closer until they were chest to chest, and planted a small garden of kisses across Jihoon’s cheeks. And, as though his touch would make a delicate but brilliant flower bloom there, he finished them off with the gentlest of kisses to Jihoon’s lips.

“Our home,” he whispered as he pulled away, his hands still interlaced behind Jihoon’s back, and Jihoon’s hands running up and down his sides.

  
  


The sun was hanging low in the sky, and had already started dipping below the horizon, but the two got to work almost immediately. After all, if they were to spend the night in the cottage, it had to be  _ somewhat _ clean. To their surprise, however, it seemed as though someone from the village had been taking care of the cottage every now and again. There was still a thick film of dust over everything, and it couldn’t exactly be called clean, but for a cottage that had been abandoned for decades, it wasn’t so bad.

It was still difficult, mundane work, but something about doing it together made it easier. Doing it together made it no longer seem like a chore, rather like something that could be enjoyed, or at least tolerated.

  
  


It was warm, domestic, sweet.

It was something they hadn’t even realized they’d been yearning for.

☼

It took almost a full month of work until the cottage was completely finished. Most of it was their own work, but neither Jeonghan nor Jihoon could deny that the villagers had provided them with invaluable help. From the very first morning, the local carpenter came knocking at their door, willing to make them whatever furniture they needed. The blacksmith had surprised them with a small,  _ beautiful _ chest, the pattern on it so ornate it must have taken her days to finish. The florist left them an assortment of flower seeds for their small garden, as well as a gorgeous wreath made of twigs and small, dainty flowers in the softest shades of pink and yellow.

And despite their insistence, all of them refused payment.

From the very first morning, they realized  _ just _ how lucky they were to have found a cottage close to a village that, for the most part, was full of kind, helpful people. There was so much they had to learn about living in the mortal realm, but the villagers were patient with their questions, and didn’t seem to find them strange at all.

  
  


Before they knew it, they had fallen into a blissful, gentle routine. The flowers bloomed, and with them came honeybees who decided that right next to their garden was the best place to build their hive. They were gentle creatures, and just like that, Jeonghan and Jihoon started making a living by selling honey to the village residents. The two elderly bakers and the florist seemed particularly happy with their newfound occupation, and were quick to become their most loyal customers.

They watched the sunset together every single night, without fail. They spent nights stargazing in each other’s arms. They used whatever honey they couldn’t sell in ambitious baking projects, ones that often ended up with the two of them covered in flour, and whatever they  _ hoped _ to make looking odd, but at the very least, edible.

  
  


They loved their new lives, but from time to time, they still mourned the loss of their magick.

  
  


Jihoon would spend nights in the glade, staring up longingly at the moon and passing his hands through the threads of moonlight that filtered down through the treetops. Every now and again, his hands tingled with a craving for moon magick to flow through them, filling his palms and shooting through his fingertips. When it got so bad he couldn’t sleep, we would slip out of bed and walk to the glade. There, underneath the quiet, calm moonlight, the craving he felt was appeased, if only a little bit.

Besides, it helped that it was always a matter of time before Jeonghan found him, and would wind his arms around his torso, placing soft kisses on the back of his neck before coaxing him back home.

When Jeonghan missed his sun magick, he would interlace his fingers with Jihoon’s, and the two would walk down to the beach. The warmth of the sun shining down on him combined with the cool breeze from the sea made Jihoon fall asleep against Jeonghan’s chest almost every time, but Jeonghan didn’t mind. It made it more soothing to him, and let him run his fingers through Jihoon’s hair as he stared at the tide coming in, and out, in, and out. 

By the time Jihoon woke up, what ached in the centre of Jeonghan’s heart would be soothed, and they would walk home hand in hand, oftentimes finding some mushrooms to bring with them.

  
  


They were both working through grief, but through it all, they were there for each other, there to dust each other off and continue paving their new path.

☼

“I’ve learned something,” started Jeonghan one evening. They sat in their garden, Jihoon’s back pressed against his chest, his head tilted back to rest on Jeonghan’s shoulder as they watched the sunset.

“Hmm?” Hummed Jihoon, looking up at Jeonghan. “What is it?”

“Not all moon faeries have eyes like yours.”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the sunset.

“How do you know? I’m the only moon faerie you’ve met.”

“Because you’re not a faerie anymore, but your eyes haven’t changed a bit.”

Jihoon’s expression softened, and he buried his flushing face in Jeonghan’s neck, not forgetting to leave a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, and Jeonghan could feel him smile against his neck as he pulled him closer, winding one of his legs around his waist.

“No, I just love you,” retorted Jeonghan, raking his fingertips down Jihoon’s back.

“Then I guess I’m ridiculous too.”

  
  


They hadn’t found perfection, in fact, things were still far from perfect, and neither of them supposed they’d  _ ever _ find it. But with every soft, tender moment they shared, they became increasingly convinced that what they’d found was nothing short of beautiful, blinding  _ bliss _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap! This might just be one of my favourite fics to date. I’m really starting to find what sort of thing I adore writing the most and it’s been so much fun! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, and remember to take care of yourselves! <33

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please remember that comments and kudos really help us fic writers out, so please leave some if you’d like!
> 
> If you’d like to find me elsewhere, my twitter is: ghiblisbox ^^


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